The Ambush
by XxWilson'sGirlxX
Summary: Wilson needs eye drops. He won't do them himself. So it's up to House to make sure he gets his eyedrops, one way or another... even if that means using his team to execute a 'Friends' style ambush. Wilson isn't going to know what hit him...
1. The Greater Good

After my mind running wild with the horror of what my fellow

Hilson fans everywhere may be subject to over the coming four

episodes, I felt the need to self-indulge in a bit of Hilson fanfic...

inspired by one of my fave scenes from 'Friends' :D this is only

a short fic written one evening, don't worry, I'm flitting back over

to 'Calls Me Home' now :D Enjoy! xxx

-[H]-

'Wilson needs eye drops.'

This really quite obvious statement reverberated around the DDX room with the usual, two hours late, flamboyant entrance of House, effectively putting an end to the early morning differential that was going on between House's three fellows as a result of the new case that had been thrust upon them at the ER's insistence.

'And so it begins,' muttered Foreman nonchalantly, the hint of a smirk on his lips the only giveaway of his amusement at the ongoing saga that was the two Department Heads as he carried on studying the notes.

Why they didn't just come out with it and admit their repressed love for each other, he'd never know.

'We kind of gathered that from Wilson's gammy eye,' observed Chase absently, idly flicking through the patient file he still had in his grasp and purposefully not giving his boss the satisfaction of his piqued curiosity.

'Surely he's got some by now?' asked Cameron, her ever present concern pulling her attention away from their patient for a moment as she looked up to House, who, worryingly, had _that_ look on his face…

She wouldn't be surprised if he'd swapped Wilson's eye drops for hot sauce.

Neither, it seemed, would Chase.

'Are we about to hear Wilson yelling from next door thanks to some stupid prank you've managed to pull off?' he questioned seriously, as concerned as Cameron was now for their endearing Head of Oncology thanks to the quite frankly devious expression House was now facing them with.

'_House,'_ warned Foreman, finally dropping the patient file to lean back in his chair and observe the madman he worked for.

'I'm hurt that you'd think me capable of such cruelty against my own BFF,' remarked House sarcastically, knowing full well that he'd done far worse in the past and limping to the coffee machine to pour himself a cup, 'when what I _actually_ plan to do is tackle him to the ground in a frenzied ambush to put the bloody drops in myself. Wilson's being an ass.'

'Let me get this right…' concluded Foreman slowly, 'You want to jump Wilson? Because he's scared of _eye drops?_'

'Yep.'

'And you need us to help you pin him down… 'Friends' style,' finished Chase incredulously, the case now lying forgotten on the glass table in front of him.

'That would be a fairly accurate assumption, given the fact I'm a _cripple_.'

'You can't be serious,' questioned Cameron, somewhat naively, knowing already as she helplessly looked from House, to Foreman, to Chase and finally back to House again that, actually, he really was.

'Actually, I really am,' echoed House, taking his seat at the head of the table and taking a swig of his coffee before continuing, 'You see, it's quite simple – Wilson _whines. _Even in peak physical condition, Wilson will insist on _whining_. You can imagine what happens when you throw an infected, oozing eyeball into the works… it's a turn-off, to say the least.'

'Oh, how my heart bleeds,' muttered Foreman, turning his attention back to the patient file to get on with the job they were paid for, thoroughly used to House's inane commentaries concerning Wilson, commentaries that usually ended up taking precedence over their patient, a person who would most likely end up dead in the next few days if the team didn't get down to the Doctoring business of _saving their life_.

That somewhat important fact, however, seemed to evade House at the slightest distraction, distractions that _always _concerned Wilson in some form or other.

It seemed that today was no exception.

'My _ears_ are bleeding,' shot back House, sounding ever more childlike in his argument as it wore on.

None of them would have been surprised if he'd stood up to stamp his foot then, frustrated as he was.

'Look, are you going to help me, or what?'

'Fine,' sighed Chase, draining the rest of his coffee, only to find himself subjected to the indignant glares of his two fellow team members once he'd put his cup down.

'What? He's only gonna carry on moaning if we don't help him, and Wilson's eye isn't going to heal itself. We could be back here in ten minutes to get on with this differential if we don't hang about.'

'Now_ that's_ the spirit I'm looking for,' exclaimed House pointedly, the belittling look he shot Foreman then nothing short of disgusted.

Foreman sighed, wondering where the fuck he'd gone wrong in med school to end up in this stupid situation, and looked at Cameron.

'I'm in if you are.'

She looked torn.

'Can I just point out here that you'd be doing this for the greater good?' declared House, turning on the doe eyes as he reeled her in with well-practiced skill, 'Think of the people you'd be helping, the lives you'd be changing… little old moi, freed from the fiery hell that is Wilson's grating voice… dear Wilson himself, freed from the agony of an itchy, gunky eyeball… Wilson's _patients_, their chances of survival currently halved thanks to him being able to see properly out of only one eye instead of two, our Head of Oncology able to see on a scan only one lung, one kidney… one breast in an examination… whatever happens to be on the right. Just think of all the nasty tumors running riot through his baldy kids 'cause they were on the _left_ side of the scan, the side that he was _blind_ to_-'_

'Oh God, alright, I'll help!' laughed Cameron, knowing he was spouting absolute crap but giving in anyway as Chase had done to just to get this over with, the grin on House's face smug as he heaved himself up to lean on his trusty cane, looking thoroughly forward to this.

He'd gotten all three of his fellows on board with this plan… it couldn't fail.

And Wilson wasn't going to know what had hit him.

-[H]-


	2. A Little ManOnMan Action

Hi, just to say thank you for reading this -

and a special thanks to those who review,

it's greatly appreciated! :D xxx

* * *

'HEY, CYCLOPS!'

Wilson sighed, already resignedly putting down his pen and looking up to the familiar sight that he was usually greeted with, AKA the limping twerp that was currently vaulting the partitioning wall outside to gracefully land on his balcony and proceed to yank the glass door open to the previously tranquil office.

'Original, House. Sorry to disappoint, but three kids on the ward have already beaten you to that one.'

'I'm surprised they didn't run away screaming,' observed House dryly as he plonked himself down in his usual spec on the couch, eying Wilson's red, swollen, pus-oozing eye with distaste, 'Seriously… 'terrifying' doesn't even cover it. You could tell your baldies that your eye had blown up right there in your head, and they'd believe you.'

'Cheers, _friend_. I feel much better.'

House felt a rare stab of sympathy for his friend then – it was quite clear that Wilson was totally fed up with having his eye the way it was. He'd been bathing it with gauze and sterile water, hoping against hope that the eye drops wouldn't be needed, resisting the urge to rub away the constant, gritty itch that distracted him constantly from his work and his patients.

And yet, sadly, his home treatment didn't appear to be working… if anything, House was quite certain he was only making it worse.

It looked _sore._

Of course, the solution was quite simple…

'No,' stated Wilson firmly at the tiny bottle of hated eye drops House whipped out of his pocket then and set down on the corner of the desk, feeling the panic squeezing his stomach at the very sight of them. He didn't know why he hated them, he couldn't remember ever being on the receiving end of some horrifying experience that had totally averted him to the necessary treatment, but all he knew, right now, was that he was _not_ going to voluntarily drop something into his eye that would make it sting even more than it already was.

'You need them.'

'I'm fine.'

'Is that your default answer for _everything?_'

'I'm _fine.'_

'You're clearly not.'

'I _am_. And anyway, it's my eye.'

'And they're _my _ears!'

'And it's got _nothing_ to do with – hang on_, what?_' asked Wilson, confused now as to why House's ears of all things had suddenly entered into this conversation.

'I said,' began House, speaking to Wilson in a deliberately slow, patronizing voice, 'AND. THEY'RE. _MY_. E-'

'Yeah, yeah, I got that, idiot – what have your ears got to do with my eye?'

'You whining about it has grated through them to turn my brain to mush,' said House simply.

'I don't _whine_,' retorted Wilson automatically, feeling the heat tellingly rising to his cheeks as he spoke. He _had_ moaned about his eye, of course he had – who wouldn't when it was absolute torture to put up with? And who best to moan to but your best friend, for God's sake?

Not that he was about to admit any of that to House.

'Well my bleeding ears, and your beautifully blushing cheeks, beg to differ.'

Wilson had no comeback to that, feeing more dejected than ever now, his voice clipped as he picked up his pen and pointedly turned his attention back to his notes.

'If your going to just sit there moaning about me, then I suggest you go back to your team and do the 'work' Cuddy pays you to do, if that's what lording it over your minions constitutes these days.'

'Oh, come on, Wilson, suck it up – will you just do the damn eye drops, already?'

'_No._'

'Then you give me no choice, I'm afraid.'

'In what, exactly?' asked Wilson incredulously, unable to help looking up again to stare first at House, following his gaze down to the ominous eye drops, before flitting back up to House again.

And then it clicked.

Quite horribly so.

His snatching fingers weren't quite quick enough to beat House, who whipped the eye drops from Wilson's desk with startling speed, the supposedly 'crippled' Diagnostician jumping to his feet faster than Wilson could say 'Vicodin' as he shot past the front of Wilson's desk in a scruffy blur to block his main exit out into the corridor, cornering the wide-eyed Oncologist behind the desk of his own office.

'You wouldn't dare,' breathed Wilson tensely, hands braced against the desk in front of him as he spoke to House, never breaking eye contact and simultaneously trying to work out his chances of a successful escape if he simply bolted from his office, fleeing onto the balcony and over into the relative safety House's office next door.

'Ah, but Wilson… after all these years, you _know_ I would,' pointed out House devilishly, the glint in his eye nothing short of evil as he advanced on his prey.

Wilson had no choice… he knew that look.

It was the same deadly expression that filled the vision of most TV murder victims as they had the life squeezed out of them at the hands of their killer, those evil eyes the last thing they saw before their world faded to black, wishing they'd just bloody well ran instead of putting up a fight.

Luckily, Wilson wasn't so stupid.

He made a break for it, his chair crashing loudly into the cabinet behind him as he flung himself around the desk, past the couch and towards the balcony, hearing the telling clatter of his prestigious awards, certificates, qualifications, teddy… everything came crashing down behind him as he ran, his ears ringing with the almighty roar that House unleashed as he tailed Wilson in practically falling out of the door and out onto the balcony in their frenzied chase:

'_GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!'_

Wilson was over the wall now, not having a fucking clue as to what House was yelling about, concentrating only on landing on his feet to throw himself across House's balcony and yank his office door open, thanking Christ for small mercies that he would be able to escape this limping nutter he called his best friend once he'd escaped into the land of witnesses, that sacred place also known as the _corridor_-

'_Oof-'_

'GOTCHA!'

Wilson wasn't quite sure of the exact point he slammed straight into the solid form of a blond, good-looking Australian, his world suddenly blotted out thanks to a crushing face full of Chase, the two men stumbling forth before falling heavily to the floor in front of House's desk in a tangle of white Doctor's coats that saw a winded, startled Wilson flattened as Foreman and Cameron proceeded to jump in too, the whole ambush nothing but a horrible blur as Wilson tried and failed to cry out, attempting to wriggle out of their iron grips and getting absolutely nowhere.

It didn't take a genius to work out that House's yell at been the signal to prepare the ducklings for phase two of this plan.

The four of them only came to a standstill once a panting Wilson was eventually immobilized, a disheveled Chase holding his legs down and Foreman and Cameron pinning each of his arms to the carpeted floor…

And the three of them looked mortified.

Wilson sighed, giving up and letting his head loll back to the floor, where his gaze came to rest on the upside-down view of the madman who had masterminded this cunning little plan.

'You're an ass.'

'My thoughts exactly,' replied House cheerfully, limping around his best friend to stand next to Cameron, who looked so guiltily apologetic that Wilson couldn't help but reassure her, even from beneath the death grip she had on his right arm.

'You work for a sadistic jerk who has nothing better to do with his time than obsess over his _ex_-best friend at every given moment. It's only inevitable that he'll steamroll you into doing something totally idiotic to your next door Department Head every once in a while.'

'Now, now, Jimmy, honey, you_ know_ we shouldn't argue in front of the kids,' reprimanded House, taking a moment to step back and survey the scene before him, silently pondering his next move as Wilson rolled his eyes and stared resignedly at the ceiling.

He needed a course of action that would keep Wilson's legs utterly useless, whilst at the same time keeping his arms pinned and his head totally still…

It shocked all of them, even Wilson, when House proceeded to step forth and positively straddle the Oncologist, discarding his cane so he could slowly lower himself until he was sitting across the middle of his friend.

'Wh-what are you _doing?_' stammered Wilson, having gone bright red now at the sudden proximity of House, who had totally kept his cool as he fished the eye drops from his pocket to idly place them on Wilson's chest.

'Thought we could spice this up with a little man-on-man action,' explained House, 'Cause, you see Jimmy, what the world needs now is love, sweet love. I mean, did you know it's the only thing that there's just too little of?'

'Shut up.'

'And, you _know_ it's what the people wanna see-'

'Shut _up._'

'Are we doing this today or not?' interjected Foreman irately, fed up now of kneeling on the floor to partake in restraining a man he both admired and respected, if not for the work he did then for the way he handled his screwed up boss.

Plus, Cuddy would be less than impressed if she walked in on the five of them to discover what could only appear to be some strange little game of foreplay that had broken out in the Diagnostics Department.

'Killjoy,' muttered House, smirking at the tiny smile that played on Wilson's lips beneath him and offering him a quick wink before straightening up again and wiping his face clean as he dished out instructions that would keep their prey totally helpless.

'Cameron – stay where you are. Chase – take over from Foreman and keep Wilson's arm pinned. I've got his legs covered. Foreman, you take Wilson's head and hold him still while I do the drops.'

Wilson, for his part, felt like an extra on an acting set – there to look pretty and do nothing else, totally forgotten about for most of it.

'You can't make me open my eyes,' he declared as the ducklings followed their newest order, shooting House a victorious look before settling down again to allow his eye lids to drift shut, knowing that even House wouldn't be so mean as to forcefully open the lid of his sore eye.

'A hundred bucks says I can make you open your legs-'

'House!' admonished Cameron, her face flaming at the crude comment, wondering how the hell Wilson put up with this crap every day of his life – bar his face going the tiniest bit pinker, he'd barely even flinched, let alone open his eyes.

'House, if you think that you can shock me into opening my eyes, then you're going to be sorely disappointed,' stated Wilson defiantly from beneath the Diagnostician, stubbornly determined to keep his eyes shut to any and all eye drops forced on him at the hands of the idiot currently straddling him, 'You've made too many 'gay' comments to surprise me these days, nothing you say now will make me open my eyes for you and those damned eye drops. Accept your defeat now, with what little dignity you have left still intact, or face Cuddy's wrath when she walks in here to find you harassing – actually, scrap that – _assaulting_ her Head of Oncology. The choice is yours, my friend.'

The logistical smirk on Wilson's face that just _emanated_ victory was doing nothing but fuelling House's desire to win at this point. He needed to win, and he needed to win quickly, before Wilson's quite reasonable plan of waiting this out until Cuddy came walking on in became a reality and the extra clinic hours on House's head sky-rocketed.

This called for drastic action.

'Foreman, let go of his head and take these,' requested House seriously, relinquishing his grip on the coveted eye drops to place his own hands on either side of Wilson's head, his gaze serious as he entrusted the vital part of this plan to his unofficial head duckling, 'As soon as Wilson opens his eyes, you are to place one drop of that into the sore one. You will not sit there in shock, you will not delay in that action for any reason, you will not waste the five second time frame we'll have to do this – you will simply follow my instruction _immediately_ and then afterwards react however the hell you want to what I am about to do. Is that clear?'

Foreman nodded uncertainly, uncapping the lid from the eye drops, wondering simultaneously just what House was about to do to Wilson that was so horrifying that he might me too shocked to move.

He found out two seconds later.


End file.
